Lost Souls

by Michael Knaggs

  Harry took a noisy intake of breath, but Jo spoke before he could say anything.

  “Clearly you haven’t thought this through properly, Mr Wade, because just let me repeat what I said. We know you are lying. Jack Tomlinson-Brown did not sell drugs or even take them. You are free to go – for now – but please make sure you are available if – or should I say, when – we want to speak to you again. That is, of course, if you’re still alive. It’s more than likely that whoever wants you dead won’t miss next time. But just in case you get lucky, I suggest you start working on your next carefully-worded statement which you’ll need very shortly to explain why you lied through your teeth on three separate occasions – when you first approached the police, under oath in court, and today.

  “Interview ended at twelve-ten.”

  They both got to their feet and left the room.

  *

  “That could have gone a whole lot better.” Jo watched from her office window as Billy Wade was driven away in an unmarked police car to his latest desirable residence. “At least we know he lied about taking crack. It’s clear now that he’s on the soft stuff, so he certainly wouldn’t have been asking Jack for…”

  “Hang on, Jo,” Harry cut in. “You need to take a step back from this. All that about him being off the hard stuff – I just led him into thinking that’s what we wanted to hear. He would have said that to take the pressure off. He’s told us three times that he does do crack. Why would you think he lied three times and told the truth just once? Unless Johnny Mac was right, of course, and you do have a preferred outcome. There’s a big difference between being focussed and being blinkered…”

  “Oh really,” Jo snapped, “I thought it was a fine line!”

  “Look, I’ve never had any trouble breaking Billy Wade before. He’s a pushover. If he’s not changing his story with me spitting threats into his face, then it’s probably the truth. And as far as the eighty-k is concerned – as I said before – that might be word-on-the-street knowledge; the value of what was left of the stuff that killed the Johnson kid. General feeling out there is it was the same stuff. Kadawe could easily know about that without having any involvement with it.”

  Jo looked away from him into the corner of the room.

  “And another thing,” Harry went on, “For whatever reason, Wade’s just missed being killed. If that was because of something he’s lied about in the past, that big bang in Dorking would surely have persuaded him to tell the truth now. Why not own up to save his own neck, as you put it?”

  Jo took a long time to answer.

  “I think that just reflects how scared of Mickey Kadawe he is. And I can believe it after looking into his eyes when I was cautioning him outside the Sweet Rock Hall. I’m not sure I wouldn’t be doing exactly what our Billy’s doing in his situation.”

  “Either that or… he’s telling the truth.” Harry got to his feet. “At least think about it, Jo,” he said, as he closed her office door behind him.

  Jo continued to stare into space. The knock on the door broke the spell.

  “Come in, Tina.” She waved her to a chair. “Your immediate job, Detective Sergeant, is to cheer me up, starting… now!”

  “Well, we’ve found no reference to eighty thousand or anything close or implying that amount. I guess that counts as good news, doesn’t it?”

  “As far as it goes, I suppose. We got nothing out of Wade,” Jo said. “Not a thing. I think if DI Waters had torn his arms off, he still wouldn’t have changed his story. So, conclusions?”

  Tina furrowed her brow as if in deep thought.

  “He’s telling the truth,” she offered.

  “No,” Jo said.

  “He’s shit-scared of somebody.”

  “Got it in two. At least, that’s what I think.”

  Jo looked thoughtful for a moment.

  “Tell me, Tina, do you believe in what we’re doing? I mean, you were on the team that secured the convictions. Do you believe there could have been a miscarriage of justice?”

  Tina frowned. “Miscarriage of justice, ma’am? I thought the Chief Super said we were just tying up loose ends.” She smiled. “To be honest, I guess I don’t want there to be. But if you’re convinced, then we’re committed to get to the truth.”

  Jo smiled. “Thanks, Tina. Not quite a ‘yes’, but I’ll take it. What we need is a rock solid, material link between the drugs in Jack’s room – forget those at Jason’s for now – and Mickey Kadawe…”

  “Agreed.”

  “And the only material link, as I see it, is…”

  “The rucksack,” Tina said.

  Jo opened her eyes wide.

  “Very good, Tina.”

  “Well, as I said; I am, after all…”

  “A detective,” Jo finished. “Yes, I know; it’s just that it was that very thing I was thinking about.”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about it as well and doing a bit of digging – well, quite a lot of digging. It’s something I was going to raise with you first thing this morning until we got started into the hunt for the eighty grand.”

  “Go on.”

  “Okay. Mickey was in the grounds with the rucksack. Little Miss Muffet told us that and Mickey is on record confirming it. In fact, he goes so far as to admitting being in Jack’s room where the drugs were found. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “He says he found the stuff, but was disturbed before he could take it and had to – I think his words were – ‘leave it and get away quick’.”

  Jo nodded.

  “And yet, it seems he had time to put everything back exactly as it was – replace the bottom panel of the wardrobe, restack the magazines, put back anything else he’d disturbed, close the wardrobe. Surely it would have been a lot quicker just to stuff the lot into the bag and run away.”

  “But perhaps he really did have to get away very quickly and had to leave everything out. Maybe Jack put it all back afterwards.”

  “But it’s certain that Jack wouldn’t have just put it back in the same place knowing someone knew it was there. He would have moved it somewhere else or even got rid of it completely.”

  Jo smiled. “Keep going, Tina. I’m getting more cheered up by the minute.”

  “Well, we virtually demolished the Grange and the bag clearly isn’t there, which kind of supports the idea that it was incriminating and so he got rid of it. It would be dead easy; stick it in a wheelie bin on the way home from the party. Virtually no chance of us finding it again even if we’d known about it immediately after the drugs were found. On the face of it, then, we might as well forget it.”

  “Yes, but…” Jo started to interrupt, but Tina waved her arms to stop her.

  “That’s if he did leave the party with the rucksack,” she continued. “But could you really imagine him doing that? Risking going through a security check with a bag that had contained drugs – or even a bag with just a set of tools in it.”

  “Probably not,” Jo said. “Go on.”

  “And he didn’t leave the same way he got in because no-one else saw him again that night. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “On Saturday, we ran a check on the security records for that night, including, firstly, the full CCTV coverage at the main gates – seven hours of it, from eight o’clock onwards. Anyway, there was any number of people arriving and leaving with various bags, including day-packs and larger sacks. So no real clues there – not yet. So we went through the computer records of people checked in and out. Everybody arriving was searched and listed on a register through a hand-held link to the computer in the Monitoring Centre a mile away. Then, as people left, they gave their name and were checked out against the ‘in’ list – to make sure everyone had left, except – I suppose – those who’d been invited to stay – Ja
ck’s girlfriend for example. In fact, I think she was the only one. The guys did a really good job under the circumstances – everyone accounted for in and out – except for one very minor blip. Or it seemed very minor at the time.

  “One guy appeared to leave twice – a guy called Davis Winkler. He was checked in like the rest, with a brief description of him included on the record, as for everybody. Davis, in spite of his name, is actually a Somali – tall, slim, good-looking, twenty years old – ring any bells? Anyway, according to the records, he appeared to check out at eleven-twenty-three pm, along with a few others at the same time. Later – much later – at two-seventeen Saturday morning, his name was given by someone else leaving the grounds. The security guys walked him back to the party where a number of people confirmed that he was, in fact, Davis Winkler. So it was just assumed that the guy checking people out earlier had made a mistake or that someone was having a joke.

  “Anyway, we went back and checked the CCTV through the period ten minutes either side of eleven-twenty. It was early for party leaving, so there was just this group of seven heading out during that time. Not possible to identify people individually because of hoods and hats, but one thing was very clear; none of them was carrying a bag of any kind. And it had to be one of those seven people who claimed to be Davis Winkler and who was not Davis Winkler.”

  “So you think one of them could have been Kadawe?”

  “Quite possibly, although the camera was positioned primarily to catch people arriving. But one of the seven didn’t seem to be part of the group. They all left at the same time, but this guy seemed to be sort of tagging along behind them. Perhaps you need to see it to know what I mean.”

  “And could he have been Kadawe?”

  “Well, he was sort of hunched over, round-shouldered. But I guess he would be trying not to look like he usually does…”

  “Just one thing,” Jo put in. “Would Mickey know, or know of, this Davis Winkler?”

  “They both live at Manston Grange.” Tina paused for effect. “So he would either know Winkler was going, or he could have seen him there while he was prowling round.”

  “Wow!” said Jo, feeling herself trembling – rather unprofessionally – with excitement. “So, conclusions?”

  Tina shrugged.

  “Well, if he was part of that group – which seems possible – even probable – then he ditched the bag somewhere in the grounds.”

  “Or back in the van,” Jo offered. “We did a search of the grounds at the time of Jack’s arrest. Though we could have missed it.”

  “Yes, or the van, I suppose,” Tina said.

  The two women smiled at each other across the desk.

  “So, what next?” Tina asked. “Back to the number hunt?”

  Jo looked at her watch. 1.50 pm.

  “Oh, I don’t think so, do you? We’ve got around five hours of daylight left. We can number-hunt inside with the lights on later if we have to. Let’s get the guys and dogs out. You chase down the vans they used that night. I’ll let Johnny Mac know and set up the search of the grounds; then I’ve got to meet with the lady of the house.

  “And, Tina; bloody great work, by the way.”

  *

  Jo had only just arrived at Etherington Place and taken a seat in the front sitting room when the screech of tyres sounded on the gravel outside followed by running footsteps in the hall. Katey Tomlinson-Brown burst into the room.

  “What’s that woman doing here?” she demanded, as Jo rose to her feet. “Why is she in Dad’s chair? And what are that lot doing outside?”

  Mags turned to her, shocked at her manner.

  “This is Detective Inspector Cottrell.”

  “Yes, I know who she is. I just want to know why she’s bothering you.”

  “Now that’s enough!” Mags said. “The Inspector has been working…” She turned to Jo. “Is it alright to tell Katey?”

  Jo nodded.

  “After Jack and Jason were convicted, I asked DI Cottrell to look into the case as a favour to me. She took a big risk in doing that without the official approval of her superiors. She went out on a limb for us. So I think she deserves a little better than to be snapped at, don’t you? And DI Cottrell is in that chair because that’s where I invited her to sit.”

  Katey continued to stare at Jo, but the muscles in her face relaxed.

  “She’s here to ask permission to search the grounds for a rucksack in connection with another case, the one against Mickey Kadawe. That’s right, isn’t it, Jo?”

  “That’s correct.” Jo looked across at Katey. “I saw you, didn’t I, when we were searching Manston Grange? For the same rucksack, as it happens.”

  Katey nodded.

  “What were you doing there exactly? That would have been just after you’d heard from your mum about Mickey’s arrest.”

  “Well, a short while after. I went to see if I could find out any more. I thought…”

  “Did you tell anyone that he’d been arrested?”

  “Well, it was common knowledge…”

  “No it wasn’t,” Jo said. “Certainly none of the officers searching told anyone. And up to the time you arrived there, people kept asking us where Mickey was. After you left, everyone seemed to know he’d been arrested.”

  “Really, Jo,” Mags intervened, “you can’t expect to keep that sort of thing…”

  “No you can’t,” Jo said, without taking her eyes off Katey, “because there’s always someone who speaks out of turn.”

  “Look, I…” Katey started.

  “Did you tell them why he’d been arrested?”

  “No, definitely not,” Katey said. “I said it was probably tax evasion.”

  Jo could not suppress a smile.

  “Well, if it’s good enough for Al Capone…” Mags added.

  There were a few moments of silence.

  “Please,” Mags said, waving for Jo to sit down again. Jo resumed her seat. Katey sat next to Mags on the sofa.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” she said. “But why are you here? I thought Kadawe had been arrested for dealing.”

  “That’s right,” Jo said. “Technically, on suspicion of dealing. Something’s come up which leads us to believe that the rucksack may have been left here after the party.”

  “Who by? And what something?”

  “I can’t answer either of those questions at the moment,” Jo said, rising again from the chair. “If we can get started, Maggie,” she added.

  “Of course. And let me know if you and your team need a drink of something.” She looked out of the window at the officers disembarking outside. “I think we’ve got enough mugs to go round.”

  Jo smiled. “I hope we won’t need to be here very long.”

  As Jo left the house to get the search under way, her mobile trilled.

  “Hi Tina. Ready to go here. What about you?”

  “We’ve got it,” Tina said.

  “What?”

  “We’ve found it. Easy peasy. Stuffed into the tool compartment with the wheel-brace and jack under the floor of one of the vans. And it gets much better. It was one of the dogs that found it, so there must be traces of something in there.”

  “God, that’s brilliant. Let’s get Catrina to ID it. I’ll phone her and pick her up on the way. Where are you?”

  “At the SRH. It’s cordoned off as a crime scene; SOCOs on the way.”

  “Be right there. Call the lab and tell them it might be a late night.”

  She went back to tell Mags the news. As she left again, Katey followed her down the steps.

  “Can I have a word, please?”

  “We need to go, Miss Tomlinson…”

  “Katey… please. Look, I’m sorry I behaved like a spoilt little girl just now. Although,
in my defence, that’s exactly what I am.”

  Jo smiled.

  “That’s okay Miss… Katey. But I really have to…”

  “Just one minute.”

  “Quickly then.”

  “I just want to tell you that I met with Cat Thompson yesterday. She told me everything she told you.”

  Jo frowned. “She wasn’t supposed to do that.”

  “My fault again. I went to see her especially to find out as much as I could. She also told me that Mickey had the hots for me – if you can believe that.”

  “Yes, Katey, I find that very easy to believe. She mentioned it to me as well.”

  “And she’s right. I didn’t believe her at first. Didn’t want to believe her. But then I thought back, and there were times – quite a lot of times…”

  “You mean he actually… propositioned you?”

  “I’m not sure what that means,” said Katey, making Jo feel about ninety, “but if you mean did he try to hit on me, then no, not exactly. It was just suggestive little comments and touches. I just took them as his little jokes at the time but, thinking back, it was always when Jason wasn’t there. In fact, always when we were alone.”

  “Okay, Katey, thank you for that, and now…”

  “Look, can I tell mum about this? All that stuff about Mickey being arrested for dealing, it’s just a cover, isn’t it? I think you’re looking at this in the context of Jason and Jack.”

  Jo did not respond straight away. It was strange, she thought, hearing Jason mentioned ahead of Jack. But Jason was actually more important now.

  “I can’t comment on that right now, Katey. But I do understand why you want to talk to your mum as soon as possible. Look, I’d like you to hold off for twenty-four hours. Let’s say until tomorrow evening, and then I’ll talk to both of you. Will you to do that?”